ship.
To everyone’s surprise, there was no damning explosion in the rear of the Vindicator . Two insignificant explosions erupted in each of the engines. To Captain Hodge, it seemed incredibly anticlimactic, though she had trouble believing that such well rehearsed and well placed rocket attacks could have faltered as these apparently had. She couldn’t help but to believe that there was more going on than meets the eye. Moments later, her suspicions were validated.
The engines, usually burning brightly with alternating swirls of blue and purple plasma, began to dim as the engines onboard the Vindicator faltered. Beginning to lose speed, the Vindicator grew steadily closer to the Revolution . Watching in confusion, Captain Hodge watched the superheated plasma in the engines cool, dimming until only a pinprick of light still emerged from the damaged exhausts. Eventually, even that narrow light faded away and the Vindicator floated helplessly in the space without any hope of maneuverability.
“Ma’am,” Young called from the Communications console. “I’ve got a lot of activity on the radio waves.”
“Put it on the intercom.”
The yells of surprise and outrage could be heard clearly as the Vindicator called for help. The garbled mess of voices made distinguishing a single report from the multitude nearly impossible. However, it wasn’t long before a clear voice overwhelmed the other, cutting off their transmissions so he could be heard.
“ Revolution , this is Captain Rochelle of the Vindicator ,” the stern, heavily accented voice called as the Captain slowly silenced the rest of the emotionally charged reports.
“Open a channel and patch his video through to my console,” Captain Hodge ordered. In front of her, her previously dark screen flickered to life, revealing a surprisingly calm but visibly upset Pilgrim male. Rochelle’s styled hair and thick, handlebar moustache offset his deep blue eyes, which pierced Captain Hodge from the console.
“Captain Rochelle, this is Captain Hodge. What’s your status?”
“My status?” Rochelle asked caustically. “Both my engines have died for no apparent reason. I’m getting reports from my engine room that the plasma in both engines has been converted into some unknown black tar-like substance.” Leaning forward, Rochelle dropped his stern persona as a look of genuine concern crossed his face. “You have to help me, Hodge. I can’t maneuver any more. They’re going to attack any moment and I have no way to avoid their missiles. Help me!”
Before Captain Hodge could manage a reply, the bridge of the Vindicator filled with warning claxons the same time that Eminent Merric began yelling his own report.
“I have multiple launches from the nearest Destroyer,” Merric yelled to be heard over the concerned calls for help. “I’m counting… ” He paused as he rechecked his numbers, not believing the first report. “I’m counting over a hundred slug and rocket launches.” Merric looked up, disbelief cast on his face.
Captain Hodge looked back at Rochelle. The Pilgrim’s face revealed that he knew his death was imminent. His stoic visage quickly replaced his look of dread as his eyes locked firmly onto Hodge.
“Goodbye, Captain Hodge, and good luck,” Rochelle said, his accent thickened with the raw emotion in his voice.
Watching both the console picture of Captain Rochelle and the forward view screen, Captain Hodge watched in horror as missiles detonated along the port side of the Vindicator while thick metal slugs tore holes clean through the ship. A stream of exploding plasma rockets blossomed along the hull in a clean line from bow to stern, splitting the Vindicator in two. Slowly, the two halves of the Alliance Cruiser drifted apart, separated by a growing sea of debris and bodies torn free from the interior of the ship. Looking down, Captain Hodge saw
To everyone’s surprise, there was no damning explosion in the rear of the Vindicator . Two insignificant explosions erupted in each of the engines. To Captain Hodge, it seemed incredibly anticlimactic, though she had trouble believing that such well rehearsed and well placed rocket attacks could have faltered as these apparently had. She couldn’t help but to believe that there was more going on than meets the eye. Moments later, her suspicions were validated.
The engines, usually burning brightly with alternating swirls of blue and purple plasma, began to dim as the engines onboard the Vindicator faltered. Beginning to lose speed, the Vindicator grew steadily closer to the Revolution . Watching in confusion, Captain Hodge watched the superheated plasma in the engines cool, dimming until only a pinprick of light still emerged from the damaged exhausts. Eventually, even that narrow light faded away and the Vindicator floated helplessly in the space without any hope of maneuverability.
“Ma’am,” Young called from the Communications console. “I’ve got a lot of activity on the radio waves.”
“Put it on the intercom.”
The yells of surprise and outrage could be heard clearly as the Vindicator called for help. The garbled mess of voices made distinguishing a single report from the multitude nearly impossible. However, it wasn’t long before a clear voice overwhelmed the other, cutting off their transmissions so he could be heard.
“ Revolution , this is Captain Rochelle of the Vindicator ,” the stern, heavily accented voice called as the Captain slowly silenced the rest of the emotionally charged reports.
“Open a channel and patch his video through to my console,” Captain Hodge ordered. In front of her, her previously dark screen flickered to life, revealing a surprisingly calm but visibly upset Pilgrim male. Rochelle’s styled hair and thick, handlebar moustache offset his deep blue eyes, which pierced Captain Hodge from the console.
“Captain Rochelle, this is Captain Hodge. What’s your status?”
“My status?” Rochelle asked caustically. “Both my engines have died for no apparent reason. I’m getting reports from my engine room that the plasma in both engines has been converted into some unknown black tar-like substance.” Leaning forward, Rochelle dropped his stern persona as a look of genuine concern crossed his face. “You have to help me, Hodge. I can’t maneuver any more. They’re going to attack any moment and I have no way to avoid their missiles. Help me!”
Before Captain Hodge could manage a reply, the bridge of the Vindicator filled with warning claxons the same time that Eminent Merric began yelling his own report.
“I have multiple launches from the nearest Destroyer,” Merric yelled to be heard over the concerned calls for help. “I’m counting… ” He paused as he rechecked his numbers, not believing the first report. “I’m counting over a hundred slug and rocket launches.” Merric looked up, disbelief cast on his face.
Captain Hodge looked back at Rochelle. The Pilgrim’s face revealed that he knew his death was imminent. His stoic visage quickly replaced his look of dread as his eyes locked firmly onto Hodge.
“Goodbye, Captain Hodge, and good luck,” Rochelle said, his accent thickened with the raw emotion in his voice.
Watching both the console picture of Captain Rochelle and the forward view screen, Captain Hodge watched in horror as missiles detonated along the port side of the Vindicator while thick metal slugs tore holes clean through the ship. A stream of exploding plasma rockets blossomed along the hull in a clean line from bow to stern, splitting the Vindicator in two. Slowly, the two halves of the Alliance Cruiser drifted apart, separated by a growing sea of debris and bodies torn free from the interior of the ship. Looking down, Captain Hodge saw
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